‘Now we shall be put to the test,’ Thomas said quietly. At his side Richard shot him a questioning glance and Thomas nodded towards the nearest of the corsairs. ‘Look at the bows.’
Richard saw the dark muzzle and long barrel of a cannon protruding from the small gun port at the front of the galley. Having stolen a lead on the Spanish convoy, the corsairs now steadily closed on the leading ships. There was a jet of flame and billowing cloud of dirty grey smoke from one of the galleys and Thomas saw fragments of wood explode into the air as the iron ball tore through the bulwark of the leading Spanish galley. The boom of the shot reached the flagship just as more shots flashed out from the bows of the other corsairs and two further shots struck home on the galley, while a water spout showed where a ball missed. A fresh shot came from a cannon loaded with iron nails and lengths of chain, and several men were swept off the foredeck of the galley as if swatted away by a giant hand.
‘Hold your course,’ Thomas whispered to himself as he watched. ‘Hold on.’
The captain of the leading galley steered straight and continued to endure the enemy’s fire until he had passed through their arc of fire. Next to come under the guns of the corsairs were the two galleys flanking the galleons. The corsairs were firing at close range this time, and backed their oars to keep a safe distance from the arquebusiers on the decks of the Spanish galleys. Thomas reflected that the last time he had taken part in a sea battle, the soldiers of the Order had only just begun to use the arquebus. At the time he had disliked the weapons because they were loud, took far longer to load than a crossbow and were cumbersome. Now they were prevalent.
Even though the corsairs were three hundred paces away from the Spanish galleys the arquebusiers could not endure the fire of the corsair guns without trying to strike back. Small spouts of water lifted from the sea around the bows of the enemy ships, and a handful of shots struck home as a figure pitched from the deck of one of the corsair galleys and splashed into the sea close to the bows. The damage done in reply was murderous, as each corsair gun belched flame and smoke and flayed the sides of the Spanish ships with a hail of iron. Several men were cut down at a time, sheets parted, their trailing ends whipping through the air like enraged serpents, and splinters slashed across the decks, cutting down yet more of the crew.
The bow of the galley to the left began to swing towards the enemy, faster as the oars on the port side hung in the water and the forward momentum dragged the galley round to face its tormentors.
‘The fool!’ Thomas growled as his fingers gripped the wooden rail tightly. ‘The fool.’
The galley fired on the corsairs as soon as its two bow guns came to bear. There was no attempt to wait for the vessel to settle and take the best shot. Even so, one of the balls crashed through the gun port under the forecastle of the nearest enemy galley and then tore down the length of the ship, smashing through the rowers, their benches and several of the oars which jerked savagely along the side of the galley. The other shot plunged harmlessly into the sea a short distance in front of the galley, throwing spray over the corsairs brandishing their weapons in the forecastle.
As soon as the Spanish galley had begun to turn, the other corsairs surged forward again, heading either side of the galley to take full advantage of the gap that opened up between the warships escorting the galleons. The damaged corsair could not move until the casualties amongst the rowers had been cut free and dropped into the bilge, and then the survivors redistributed amongst the remaining oars. As the vessel wallowed on the swell, the Spanish galley continued to pound it, cutting down the foremast and smashing the bows into a splintered ruin. As Thomas watched he could see that the corsair would not be able to take any further part in the battle even if the vessel was lucky enough not to sink. But that was small comfort since the way was now open for the remaining five corsairs to sweep past the Spaniard and fall on the galleons. A crackle of musket fire sounded as the corsairs exchanged shots with the crew of the galley, then the crash of cannon from the galley ahead and to the left of the flagship. The shot struck the stem of the foremost corsair, striking down the officers gathered there.
‘Sir.’ Thomas turned to Don Garcia. ‘We have to stop the corsairs reaching the galleons.’
‘I can see that, thank you. We must move closer to them.’ Thomas took another look at the scene before he saw that one of the corsairs was flying a much larger pennant than the others. He pointed it out. ‘That must be their leader, there.’
Don Garcia followed the direction he indicated.
‘If we can take or sink him, then we might discourage the others, sir.’
‘What of the formation? If we take after that ship we will no longer be able to cover the rear of our other galleys.’
‘It’s already too late for that. The formation was only good for as long as every ship held its station.’ Thomas gestured towards the galley still firing at the dismasted corsair, which had started to settle by the bows. ‘Now it’s every ship for itself, sir.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘Captain!’ Don Garcia called out as he strode to the rail that overlooked the main deck. ‘Alter course towards that corsair with the long pennant. Do you see him?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Have your gunners make ready. We must destroy him as swiftly as possible.’
As the captain passed the orders on, Thomas watched the corsairs’ attack unfolding. Five galleys had slipped between the Spanish escorts and were closing on the galleons to open fire at point-blank range. One of the enemy vessels had heaved to, and there were figures running across the stern deck as they looked for survivors amongst the officers who had been scythed down by a blast of grapeshot. Beyond the corsairs the leading Spanish ship was starting to turn back to rejoin the battle. To the south the two galleys tasked with protecting that flank were still keeping station even though they were under fire from the second group of corsairs.
‘What will the enemy do now?’ asked Richard.
Thomas considered the situation briefly before he replied. ‘If they follow usual practice they’ll try to shred the rigging and sails to stop the galleons and then clear the decks with grapeshot before they attempt to board. But there isn’t time for that. I believe they will fire on to the decks first and cause as many casualties as possible before they are forced to retreat. Then they’ll repeat the same pattern of attack. As long as the corsairs handle their ships well and avoid a melee they can continue their running attacks on the galleons.’ He sucked air through his teeth. ‘The soldiers on board are going to suffer grievous losses unless we can drive the corsairs off.’
The pace setter’s drum quickened and the flagship turned towards the enemy leader who was backwatering as he approached the nearest of the galleons. There was a flash and puff of smoke from the bows as the gun fired on the galleon. Just as Thomas had feared, the shot was aimed low and cut a swathe through the soldiers trapped on the deck. Small puffs of fire and smoke blossomed along the side of the galleon as some of the arquebusiers fired back. The other corsair galleys took up positions abeam of the galleon and added their fire and the officers on the deck of the flagship could only look on in despair as the Spanish soldiers were steadily cut down.
‘Can’t this damned ship move any faster?’ Richard hissed in frustration. ‘And why doesn’t anyone give the order for our guns to open fire? Surely we’re in range.’
They were little more than a quarter of a mile from the leader of the enemy fleet, whose galley was in direct line with the galleon.